


Happily Ever After

by imonlyheresoIdontgetfined



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-19 16:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4753889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imonlyheresoIdontgetfined/pseuds/imonlyheresoIdontgetfined
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What once was love, maybe isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Perry loved Lafontaine.

She had loved Lafontaine since the first time she had laid eyes on them.

Their sweet, deep blue eyes, that adorable little smirk they had on their face when they were being mischievous, the way their brow furrowed when they were hard at work, and the way the tone of their voice lifted when they were discussing some new finding.

She never really understood half of the things they were talking about, but she simply enjoyed the enthusiasm at which they spoke.

She and Lafontaine had been best friends for as long as she could remember. They did everything together. The entirety of their days from diapers to dorm rooms were spent with each other. They even shared their first kiss together.

Lafontaine always remarked that it took their breath away.

Lola, didn’t feel the same.

She should have known that in that realization lay a problem.

It was cute, she remembered thinking. It was the way things should be, according to the massive amounts of media she had consumed at the time. Girl meets person, and with one kiss realized they were meant to be.

Forever.

So, after graduation from university, when Lafontaine proposed it was only right to say yes. Their parents expected it, their friends expected it, everyone around them expected that moment.

Lafontaine could recount the story to her over and over again with such precision, it was as if it had happened yesterday. The only thing Lola could recall, was the panic. How her jaw dropped, not out of adoring awe, but of fear. How the world tilted, and she stood still.

Vertigo.

The sound of her own heart beating so loudly, she had to clutch her chest to make sure no one could see it throbbing cartoon-esque through her sweater.

Things moved quickly then. Lafontaine got a job working with the Corvae Corporation, they moved into a home, married, and settled into happily ever after.

Only Lola wasn’t happy, she was bored.

She didn’t always feel that way, bored. In the beginning, it was a blissful nest of normality. The first year, they were a well-oiled machine of routine that made Lola feel secure in her decision.

She awoke before Lafontaine, brushed her teeth, put on a light bit of make-up, and then crawled back into bed just before the alarm went off. Lafontaine would wake, lament about how Lola managed to rouse from slumber looking more stunning than when she went to bed, they’d eat breakfast, Lola would see Lafontaine off to work, and later in the evening they would have quiet, sweet sex, and fall asleep.

Rinse, wash, repeat.

By year two, the sex was gone.

One morning Lola decided, in an effort to spice things up, that she’d break routine by making love to Lafontaine as soon as their eyes opened. She planned to go all morning, through the evening, and end with a candlelight dinner. Later, there would be dessert in bed.

Her heart sank when Lafontaine’s eyes never met hers. Something about a meeting. Something about it being too important to miss. Something about JP needing them to be there to back up their findings.

So, she watched them dress, kiss the right side of her cheek, oblivious to the single tear that slid down the curve of her left.

JP always needed them, but she needed them too. She needed more than the appearance of happy, and their voice reassuring that life was perfect.

She needed action.

Lola did continue to try. One evening she set the mood with candles, dinner, soft music, and greeted them in the skankiest piece of lingerie she owned.

Lafontaine turned on the lights, asked her what was with the candles, and went to bed.

Lola drank red wine, and cried as she read article after article about lesbian bed death.

Only, she was too well read to believe in such a ridiculous myth.

Their relationship hadn’t lost its pulse, it never had one. It was a living corpse, only it wasn’t surviving on flesh and gore like some sci-fi nightmare, it existed on a bond that was never meant to cross a certain barrier.

The barrier between friendship, and relationship.

Lola had married her best friend, and it was the worst mistake of her life.

 

-

-

-

 

Lola didn’t realize JP would be joining them for dinner that evening.

When Lafontaine called her and told her to meet them at Lola’s favorite restaurant, she thought it would be just the two of them. She imagined Lafontaine finally admitting something was wrong, and telling her they were willing to work on it. She had even rehearsed, on the cab ride over, her reaction and responses. She was going to tell them they could manage this, cup their cheeks in her hands, and tell them that this was worth salvaging.

When her eyes fell on JP, she couldn’t stop the smile on her face from falling.

He noticed.

“Mrs. Perry,” He greeted, standing to give her a polite kiss to the cheek, “I hope I’m not intruding on your evening.”

Perry recovered with a strained grin. She opened her mouth to respond, but Lafontaine did it for her.

“Its fine,” Lafontaine added and stood, shifting Lola’s seat back so that she could join them, “Right, Perr?”

“It’s fine.” Perry added curtly, and took her seat, resting her purse on the floor beside her.

Lafontaine and JP sat once more, JP fidgeting slightly under Lola’s stare. He didn’t make eye contact with Lola, and it unsettled her.

“Always a pleasure to see you Mr. Armitage.” Perry added flippantly, her eyes locked on him.

She felt Lafontaine, grab her hand, and squeeze gently under the table. Lola looked over at Lafontaine and saw their eyes pleading for her to soften. Lola felt ridiculous then, taking out her frustration on Lafontaine’s friend.

She wasn’t this person.

She wasn’t the shrew housewife stereotype whose partners went out with their friends and described her as a ‘real cunt punter’. She wasn’t some castigating, shrill, demanding, bitch. She just wanted her partner to be just that, a partner.

She just didn’t want to feel alone in worrying about their future.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening JP.” Perry remarked, with a complaisant smile. She was sure to flash it in Lafontaine’s direction as well.

It must have won them both over, because she felt the tension surrounding their table dissipate. What pained her the most, is that Lafontaine couldn’t see that she was screaming inside. That though her body sat in her chair, her mind was reciting the words she’d speak once she and Lafontaine were at home in an inevitable argument.

But they never argued, to do so would require passion. Passion that they lacked. So Lola knew her evening would probably end with a glass of wine, and rearranging the Tupperware.

Drinks were ordered, Lola sipped at her wine, and watched Lafontaine and JP unintentionally flirt in front of her for thirty minutes.

Lafontaine was so touchy with him, even their smile was different. Lola hadn’t seen that smile in ages, that wide toothy grin that could charm any person within radius. They laughed at each other’s jokes, they got each other, and sometimes it made Lola wonder about some of those meetings they had. It made her question their late night research, and the urgency at which they were needed.

It made her question why Lafontaine sometimes smelled so thickly of his after shave.

Why JP always looked so goddamn guilty when she was around him.

She accused Lafontaine once, and only once. She came right out with it, and asked if they were having an affair with JP. Lafontaine exploded at the accusation, and Lola had never seen them so upset in her life. They ranted about their loyalty to her, how they work their ass off to keep this whole thing going.

It turned her on, that anger.

That reaction.

The authority that crept into their tone.

But, it also broke her heart to hear them speak about their marriage, about Lola, as if she were an obligation. ‘To keep this whole thing going’ echoed in Lola’s mind since the day they spoke those words.

‘What whole thing’ she wanted to reply, this charade of a marriage?

She decided against that question, in fear of the answer.

She’d trot the phrase out, especially while they were entertaining guest, to piss them off when she felt slighted. It was just a stinging little reminder that she was never over that night, and never would be.

One night she had said it, and after company left, Lafontaine reacted as they did on the night of the accusation. Lola had done it on purpose, to get Lafontaine so worked up that they’d fuck her, hard, and rough on the next available surface.

Instead, Lafontaine had grabbed their coat, and left.

JP’s thick English accent, cut Lola away from her thoughts.

“Oh no, I couldn’t tell that one Lafontaine, it’s much too vulgar.”

“You can’t wiggle out of this one Jeep.”

Lola quickly rolled her eyes, she hated that nickname they gave him.

“Perr, you’ve got to hear this one.”

Lola sipped from her drink and smiled courteously in JP’s direction, hoping her eyes didn’t communicate the fact that she’d rather do anything else at the moment then hear another corny punchline.

“Well, if you’re both going to twist my arm,” JP added cheerily, “What is the fastest way to determine the sex of a chromosome?”

Lafontaine looked from JP to Lola, then grinned.

“How?” Perry asked, trying to sound as if she had genuine interest.

“You pull down its genes!”

Lola watched them both divulge into laughter, she chuckled, and caught the eye of their waiter to signal for another drink.

Soon, JP and Lafontaine were back in their own world again. Their banter and jokes, creating a bubble that Lola couldn’t slip beyond.

As it always did.

It didn’t bother her as long as the drinks kept coming.

Out of boredom she scanned the restaurant, noticing the business types they were seated amongst.

The restaurant they sat in was starkly modern, with chic wall art, and high set booths. The booths it seemed, were for those who were of more importance than their lessers dining on the floor.

A structural serfdom, the peasants feasting below in hopes to one day dine with their masters.

That’s when she spotted her. She was absolutely striking. So much so, Lola found herself gawking. Her eyes combed over jet black hair that cascaded over well-toned shoulders, the skin there exposed by the cut of her dress, darker and more radiant than any ephemeral kiss from the sun. Lola watched as she drank from the glass nearest her, her tongue peeking out to lick bold red from her lips.

She looked as bored as Lola with the men who flanked her. They seemed to vie for her attention with whatever conversation they had going on, Lola could tell it wasn’t for her affection, but for her respect. She exuded power, it was so ingrained in her that it bled through in her movements. The way she picked up her glass, the way she tossed her hair slightly, impatient with a point one of the minions around her made.

She stopped to respond to him, then the table erupted in laughter, hers rang out the loudest. It was deep, hearty even, and Lola wanted so desperately to know what could cause such a thing.

Lola looked back to JP and Lafontaine, trying to keep her focus elsewhere. It didn’t last for long.

Soon, her eyes wandered back to the woman in the booth only this time, the woman was staring back.

The woman looked annoyed at first, then she broke into a smile. The grin was effervescent, almost friendly at first glance, then something else snuck in. Something alluring, something sultry that made Lola’s pulse race.

JP and Lafontaine seemed to slip from reality, so did the restaurant, and all of the occupants within it. Her eyes on Lola made her feel flustered. Lola reached upwards and toyed with the collar of her blouse, trying to halt the heat building inside her.

Lola returned the smile nervously, then the woman looked away, returning to her conversation as if the moment between them had never happened.

The restaurant did as well mindless mumbling, polite laughter, and clanking silverware resumed.

Lola gasped when the woman motioned for the men around her to rise so that she could shimmy out of the booth. She was walking then an arrogant, and intimidating stroll, which was only heightened by the fashionable black pumps she wore.

It took Lola a moment to realize she was headed directly in her direction.

Lola panicked, her hand toying with the ring she wore. The woman was closing in on her now, the trepidation almost caused Lola to rise from her chair, and flee.

As the woman approached, Lola opened her mouth to speak.

“I’m married.” Lola muttered, but the words came out strangely garbled.

The woman never even looked her way, she just kept on by, never even giving Lola a second glance.

Lola, embarrassed, turned back to her dinner mates. Both exchanged puzzled glances.

“Perr, you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just...just leave it."

Lafontaine looked as if they wanted to press further, but resigned. Lola’s eyes roamed to the bar, where the woman lingered.

“I think I’d like another drink.” Lola announced, then stood.

“Mrs. Perry, would you like me to flag the wait - ”

“No. No thank you, I’ll grab something from the bar.”

They both stood as she departed from the table. Perry had never been the ogling type, but her eyes devoured the woman from behind as she approached. The dress she wore contoured perfectly to her body, hugging her curves, and accentuating an ample backside. Her legs were smooth, the same even tone as her shoulders, and it made Lola’s mind question if she was the same color all over.

It made her wonder how those same legs, and heels would look draped over her shoulders.

That thought alone should have turned her around, but she didn’t. Her body was acting as if she had no control of it, and she was thankful for it.

It was daring when she didn’t have the ovaries to be.

Lola waited for a lady beside the woman to stop her attempts at conversation with her, before she slid into the spot she vacated, and leaned against the counter, trying to remember how to be sexy.

Lola pretended to browse the liquor options there, all the while stealing glances as the woman sipped at a martini.

She mixed wine and gin, she really was a dangerous gal.

Lola reminded herself that she was a married woman. She was spoken for. She had no business at this bar, brushing shoulders with enticing strangers.

Wait, they were brushing shoulders?

When did that development happen?

Who had initiated it?

Lola didn't care. All she knew at the moment was that her skin was soft against her own. A feather’s touch. Petal skinned.

They stood like this, shoulder to shoulder until the bartender came and asked for her order.

Think of something sexy, think of something sexy, Lola recited in her mind.

“Sex on the beach, please.”

This earned a light chuckle from her shoulder buddy.

Lola closed her eyes, trying to quell the flush from her cheeks.

The drink was served, and she sipped at it heavily, standing beside her choice in ridiculous party girl libations.

She found bravery in the peach schnapps.

“Why three olives?” Lola asked. She didn’t say it to the woman directly, she simply stated the question out loud.

There was a beat in between the question, and the woman’s response.

“Health, wealth, and happiness.” The woman remarked, then finished her drink.

Why she responded to Lola, and not the others that seemed to have tried and failed, gave her confidence. “Superstitious?”

“Not at all. Just a traditionalist.” She answered, then drained her glass. “Charge this to my table.” The lady tossed to the bartender before walking off, and to the ladies restroom.

Lola finished her drink with a quickness, then followed. As she walked, she regretted the speed at which she had consumed the drink. She wasn’t drunk, but she was definitely heady.

The restroom door was cold against Lola’s palm as she pushed it open, she was surprised to find it empty. She had seen her enter, had followed too closely for her to detour.

She walked past the stalls, ready to pick one to use as cover for when she returned to her table, but saw the woman holding one open, the same grin from earlier plastered on her face.

Lola stepped inside and the woman closed the door, then slid the thin bolt into place, securing them both inside.

“Are you following me?” She questioned.

“No-I-I-I-”

“I saw you,” She started, “Earlier. Staring at me.”

She was getting closer, and Lola’s nerves shattered. She reached for the bolt, but the woman held the stall door steadfast.

“Did you see something you liked?” She moved closer, “Something you wanted?”

“I have a partner.” Lola responded sternly, as if she was offended by the thought. She held up her ring finger.

The woman laughed, that same laugh that floated from the booth and enraptured Lola. “That so?”

“Yes, it is.” Lola reached for the door once more. “I should go.”

“Then leave, but do you really want to?”

Lola pondered on this for a moment, by the time she had even formulated a response, the stranger was an inch away from her lips. Her stunning brown eyes looking from Lola’s eyes to her mouth repeatedly.

The woman pressed her lips to Lola’s, and Lola’s hands cupped her cheeks to keep her close. Her lips on Lola’s were heavenly almost, full, and soft. Both of her lips captured Lola’s Cupid ’s bow, and tugged before settling back into place. Lola felt her tongue slip into her mouth, and she welcomed it, moaning as she felt hands on her waist.

The kiss broke with a soft smack, and Lola, Lola’s breath had been snatched from her body. She realized this is how kisses were supposed to render people. This is how Lafontaine had claimed to feel when their lips first met. Desperation, was the only word that could come to mind. She wanted, no, needed more of this.

Whatever it was.

Lola clung to her, their lips meeting over, and over again hungrily.

Before Lola knew it, the stranger was unbuttoning her pants.

Lola spoke into her lips. “Wait, wait.”

The stranger paused, her lips never shying from Lola’s.

“Your name, what’s your name?”

“What does it matter?”

“I can’t,” Lola swallowed thickly, “I can’t until I know. I’m Lola. Lola Laf…Perry.”

“Matska.” She responded, her tongue flicking out to tease the bottom of Lola’s lips. “Matska Belmonde, but you,” Matska purred, “You, can call me Mattie.”

“Mattie.” Lola pulled back, looking into Matska’s eyes. “Fuck me.”

There were no words needed after. Her pants were undone, and knowing fingers found her slick center. Matska had her pinned against the stall door, and Lola did whatever she could to give her more access to her body.

“Fuck me.” Lola moaned into Mattie’s mouth. “Fuck me hard.”

Lola could have came the moment she felt Matska's fingers slide inside her. Just like the olives, one for health, one for wealth, and one for happiness. Bliss more like it, as she curved them, hitting walls and spots Lola had not felt properly addressed for some time. Lola bit her lip as Matska roughly thrusted inside her, her moans drowned in her Matska's kiss.

“Harder.” Lola whispered, and Matska obliged. She pumped inside her so hard, Lola heard the stalls beside them rattle. Lola propped her foot against one of the stall walls, so she could move with her, thrust into each hard push inside her.

“Perr?”

The life drained from Lola when she heard that voice. Her hand instinctively pressed to Matska mouth to stop her laughter.

“Yes?”

“I saw you come in, I just wanted to check on you. See how things are going?”

“I just…”

Matska peeled her face away from Lola’s hand and leaned to whisper in her ear, her fingers still deep inside Lola. “You had too much to drink.” Matska pushed further inside her, her own breath short as she continued to pleasure the woman before her.

“I-I…I had too much to drink. I just, I need some time to just sober up.”

“Good girl.” Matska said lowly, then slipped out of Lola, just to slip back inside her. She could feel Lola’s nails in her skin, and it made her insatiable.

“Okay, did you want to order? The usual?”

“Yes,” Lola responded trying to hide the pleasure in her tone, “Same old, same old.”

“You got it. Hey, Perr?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be waiting, k?”

Another thrust from Matska that made Lola nearly howl. “Ok.”

When Lola heard the door slip close, she distanced herself from Matska. Lola pressed down on Matska’s wrist until her fingers were no longer inside her.

Guilt had set in. Despite her body urging for Matska to finish, she couldn’t. She couldn’t do this.

Lola had gone far enough already.

Lola slipped her leg down until she was firmly planted on the ground, her hands fastening buttons, and primping hair.

“I’m sorry.” Lola said, her eyes never meeting Matska’s.

Matska used a finger, one of the same ones she had inside her, to lift her chin.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for.”

Lola liked this, this stranger, and her pointed finger in her chin telling her she didn’t have to apologize. That there was nothing to be sorry for.

She believed it, even if it weren’t true.

Lola surged forward, and kissed Matska again. It was hard, rough, and ended with them both gasping for air. She even gripped Matska’s ass tightly for good measure. Lola kissed Matska as if their lips would never meet again, and they wouldn’t as far as she was concerned.

Matska grinned after, their foreheads still connected. “Lola,” She whispered. “I want you.”

Lola’s body shuddered. She had never in her life heard those words from another. I need you, yes. I like you, yes. I love you, too many times than she could count. But, there was something about that word want that stirred something inside her. It wasn’t of necessity, or a crush, or some word spouted over lifetimes of knowing one another. It was desire, passion, and it made her want to spread her legs again.

To feel herself pulsating around Matska’s fingers once more.

Lola watched as Matska reached into the top of her dress and pull out a card, she slipped it seductively into Lola's bra.

“If you want to finish up what we’ve started here,” Matska said, “If you find the nerve to continue,” Matska challenged further. “Call me.”

Matska leaned forward and just when Lola had her lips parted for another kiss, Matska instead kissed the pulse at her neck.

She then side stepped Lola, and headed out of the stall. Lola didn’t breathe again until she heard Matska wash her hands, then exit the wash room entirely.

Lola, with shaky legs, exited the stall, rushed to the sink, and tossed cold water on her face and neck. She dried her face, best she could, with fresh towels and tried to still her heart.

She felt terrible. However, despite the dread in her chest, she was excited. The card near her breast burned into her skin. Even if she never acted, even if she never called Matska, she’d always have a piece of her.

Somehow, that made up for the pain she knew she’d inflict if she ever did.

After cleaning herself up, she looked at the card.

** Matska Belmonde – attorney at law. **

Lola stuffed the card back into her bra and smirked, but refused to look at her reflection. She was scared to see her satisfaction on the matter.

After composing herself entirely, Lola exited the restroom, and headed back to her table. She ignored the hand that JP had tucked over Lafontaine’s, which he quickly withdrew. They stood until she sat, then she looked at the medium well duck Lafontaine had ordered in her stead.

“Looks good.” Lola remarked, scooting her chair forward, and cleaning off her silverware on her napkin.

“I don’t know Perr, tastes the same as usual.” Lafontaine said, a piece of the bird at the end of their fork.

Perry deftly sliced a piece of the duck, then placed it into her mouth. She closed her eyes and chewed the soft succulent flesh.

“I think I have to disagree,” Perry said, eating yet another piece, “It tastes different to me.”

Lafontaine and JP delved back into comfortable conversation, while Perry’s eyes scanned the booth where Matska sat, and found it empty.

-

-

-

The ride home was silent.

Lafontaine dropped her off, but said they, and JP were meeting for a nightcap.

Lola didn’t protest, she only nodded, and let herself into the house

Once the door was closed, she poured herself a glass of wine, drank the first glass far faster than she should have, and then poured one after the other until the half bottle she had remaining was emptied.

Lola didn’t fall asleep with Netflix.

She ended the night masturbating in the shower.

Her mind and body centered on one image when she came.

Matska Belmonde.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Lola needed to see.

She needed to know why she couldn’t get Matka Belmonde off her mind.

She spent a lot of time thinking about that kiss in the restroom stall.

Thought often of her stranger.

The way her lips, seemed almost perfectly crafted for hers. As if, Matska was the final piece of some grand puzzle she had no idea she was putting together.

She’d sit for hours beside Lafontaine in bed pretending to read a book, but hidden under the pages was the business card Matska had slipped her.

Lola would run her thumb over the indented letters on the sturdy paper, her lone finger following each curve of every letter as Matska’s fingers once curved inside of her.

When she did this, she always wondered what Matska was doing at that moment. She was an attorney, so Lola imagined her knee deep in some case, researching some law, or giving some grand closing argument simultaneously making the jury swoon as the judge banged his gavel. After, she’d celebrate with her friends, or some affluent group of folks only people in her position had the opportunity to meet.

Then she’d be back in the office the next morning, bright and early.

Burning the candle at both ends.

She needed to see why she couldn’t get Matska Belmonde off her skin.

Off her lips.

Off her tongue.

Why she’d close her eyes and re-enact the incident over, and over again. Why she felt like, if she really focused, she could still feel the grip of Matska’s hand at the base of her neck. Her voice, like bourbon, charred and smoky ringing in her ears.

Lola. I want you.

The phrase played in her mind on repeat. Maddening her, as if Matska was some heartbeat resounding beneath her floorboards.

She wanted to compare notes. Find Lafontaine, and take them by surprise. Literally, take them.

On sight.

She’d had it all worked out in her mind.

She packed a picnic basket, filled with cheeses, meats, and those tiny pickles –as Lafontaine referred to them - that they liked.

She’d gotten some quality wine, two glasses, and set off to Lafontaine’s place of employ.

Lola wanted the meeting to be spontaneous. For them to connect somewhere beyond the confines of their home. Beyond the comfortable reach of routine.

She could see it, as she made her way over. Lafontaine flushed, strained against their lab table. Begging for Lola to touch them in ways they’d never let her. She could see herself taking them, pushing deeper and deeper inside them, until they climaxed at her hand.

Just as Matska had nearly done to her.

But she wouldn’t, couldn’t, allow herself to think of Matska now. Right now was about her marriage. About finding a spark, or igniting one, even though the flint was dulled, and the tinder soggy.

The secretary vowed to keep quiet about her arrival. She got a guest pass and walked through several security points with ease, which was a surprise to her. Given how secretive, and private this particular corporation had proven to be.

A few more corridors, and there they were. In their element. Directing traffic on some project, or task, or whatever they were in charge of. Lola stayed back for some time, watching them.

She liked to watch them work, always had. How incredibly happy they seemed when working with some specimen she didn’t care to hear the gruesome details on. Once the red and flashing ‘testing in progress’ sign turned off, once she saw them shedding their gear and decontaminating, she moved forward. Picnic basket brandished like a knight nobly entering a battlefield.

Lafontaine spotted her, and looked confused for a moment. She watched them glance behind to an emerging JP, who looked as if he were about to sling an arm around their shoulder. He looked up in confusion as well, then to Lafontaine, then back up at Perry and waved.

Perry narrowed her eyes at him. She hadn’t meant to do it, it was a natural reflex with him. She felt he was an intruder, a thief roaming freely across claimed territory, and taking what he pleased.

Perry returned a forced smile. Lafontaine jogged over to her, and artfully dogged her lips for a kiss to the cheek.

“Perr, I wasn’t expecting you.”

Their tone sounded like one of annoyance, rather than adoring shock which was what Lola was aiming to inspire.

“I thought I’d,” Lola paused for a bit to grin, and move a fleck of red hair from Lafontaine’s face, “I thought I’d give you a little surprise.”

Lola panicked for a moment, thrown backwards at the awkwardness of it all. One wasn’t supposed to feel awkward around their partner were they? Like she was ill timed? A joke maybe, a comment sure, but her presence? She didn’t feel all eyes should be on her, but they were.

It didn’t matter if Lafontaine brought her near, doted on the picnic basket now gripped to white knuckle in her hand.

She felt like an interloper then, even with Lafontaine’s eyes reassuring her she wasn’t.

An unwanted.

An encroacher.

She didn’t like the way JP huffed as Lafontaine’s arm wrapped around her waist. They smiled at JP, and guided her to their office.

Lola looked back all the while.

He looked, angry.

Frustrated even.

She shook it off however, the art of surprise was never her strongest suit. She only used them when she felt one was warranted. And it was now, it really was. She needed to see if it was the impetuousness that made her mind stray to her stranger in the lavatory. If it was the act of betraying routine, and not Matka’s forceful hands, and heated kisses that made her blood boil just on memory alone.

As soon as the door was secure, Lola abandoned the picnic basket, ripped a few buttons of her shirt down, and lunged at Lafontaine. She spindled herself around Lafontaine, her lips parting, breath short.

She was met with a kiss.

But it was missing something.

She tried again, pushing Lafontaine backwards, and up against a wall. She lifted up her knee to press herself deeper into them, waited for Lafontaine to grip it, and press her even tighter.

But they never did.

Lafontaine broke the kiss, and laughed.

“Perr,” They said, their breath short, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Lola replied, her mouth closing in on theirs again, her eyes closed tightly. “Take me right here.” Lola moaned lowly.

“Perr…” Lafontaine started, but their words were cut short by Lola’s lips.

Lola lifted up the skirt she wore slightly, and revealed creamy thigh. It was Laf’s favorite, she wore it on purpose, just for them.

“Perr…Perr wait.” Lafontaine broke the kiss, pushed their hands up, not to further embrace Lola, but to lower her skirt. “We can’t here.”

“Why not?” Lola tried to ask calmly, but couldn’t mask the loose nerves unraveling in her tone.

“I work here. I just can’t…do you in my office, that’s pretty rank. I mean, I’ll come home…and we can…I don’t know, finish up?”

Lola huffed, embarrassed now. She felt silly. She felt like a childish little girl swept up in some fantasy she had in her youth, play acting it with a crush who wasn’t interested. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. She was furious. She wanted to turn their desk over. Make a scene.

But, she couldn’t do that.

She’d only embarrass herself further, and drag Lafontaine into the abashed abyss with her.

“Don’t you want me?” Lola asked, her hands pulling her skirt back into place, tears in her eyes. She sounded desperate, her words were more a plea than a question.

“Perr,” Lafontaine took that tone Perry hated, that pitying tone, “Perr, of course I want you.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Perry’s voice cracked, “I feel like a fool.” Lola tried to look up, tried to stop the tears, but the freefall down her cheeks had begun.

Lafontaine sighed, then wrapped their arms around Lola. “Perr, I’ve got a ton going on right now. Don’t get me wrong, this is hot.” Lafontaine bit their lip, then pecked Lola’s forehead. “You’re not a fool, okay? You’re perfect. And this lunch is awesome, and you are beautiful.”

And Lola believed them. She did. It didn’t stop the tears. It was as if her body was realizing something before she could.

Each tear that wet her blouse, foreshadow.

“It’s just…” Lafontaine looked towards the door, “It’s a really bad time Perr. I mean, I got people at the top screaming at me. I have management looking for results. Our funding is in jeopardy. I’ve just got a lot on my plate, and a lot of people counting on me. And I just…”

Don’t say it, Lola thought. She couldn’t hear it now. Because she felt Lafontaine was choosing yet another thing over her. It was a growing list. A growing deck heaping taller and taller, and Lola felt as if she were lost amongst the shuffle. So low she wouldn’t make it to the surface, even if Lafontaine was cutting cards.

“I just need time to sort it all out and then,” Lafontaine gathered either of Perry’s hands in theirs and kissed the top of them, “We’ll get to this. You and me, and some oddly named drink on an island. What do you think about that?”

Perry laughed, her tears clearing instantly. She’d liked that. The isolation would get them to focus on one another. To keep Lafontaine’s mind from work, and hers from…other places.

Lola nodded, her smile spreading contagiously to Lafontaine. “Okay.”

“Ok?”

Lafontaine brought Lola closer, wiped a few stray tears from her face, and planted the tiniest kiss to her lips.

“I’m keeping the basket though,” Lafontaine teased, “All these yummy things are staying with me.”

Lola wiped dampness from her face. “Its fine, it’s all for you.”

And it really was.

It really was.

She felt guilty for what she’d done with Matska. She didn’t deserve Lafontaine. She didn’t deserve their sweetness, and their devotion. She’d spend the entirety of her life making it up to them. How dare she? How dare she waltz into their place of work and demand love, after what she’d done?

She felt like an idiot, and now, it was rightfully so.

“I’ll wait up for you, I will.” Lola said, and kissed their lips sweetly.

She’d wait for them. Forever, if they asked.

“Not too late Perr, I’m going to be pulling double duty here. Lots of things to be covered.”

Lola nodded, pressed her palm to their cheek. “Don’t work too hard. Find yourself back to me.”

Lafontaine kissed the inside of her palm, then grinned.

Lola headed for the door then, her mind set on home. That’s what she had after all, and not many people could say that. They could have a house, but they’d never have a home. Not like her.

Not with a partner like hers.

 

-

-

-

 

Lola didn’t know how to react when she saw it.

In her Velma Kelly like act of desperation, she must have lost her keys in the shuffle.

She’d went back to retrieve them, the guest pass she was provided again working in her favor.

She went by Lafontaine’s office, found her keys on the floor there.

She stopped to tidy up Lafontaine’s office, just a bit. Not too much that they’d notice, but just enough to where she herself could sleep at night.

Lola wandered over to the testing doors, just to sneak a last peek at her partner. She didn’t see them there, so she wandered a little further.

Then she spotted them, not in the testing area, but in some dimly lit room that had some obscure name on a sign outside of it. She used it to stable herself to look further into the room, her fingers grazing the bumps of braille underneath.

In it, she saw Lafontaine, and JP in what looked to be a heated debate.

She smiled, colleagues, their tempers tested as management ground down harder.

But then, then it wasn’t like colleagues.

JP was shouting, motioning between himself, and Lafontaine. He looked as if he were about to be in tears. Lafontaine looked as if they were calming him, soothing him with words.

He paced.

He was furious.

He used a gesture, a gesture Lola had only swore she’d seen in an ultimatum.

This or that, he motioned.

That or this, he declared with his freely swinging arms.

Lafontaine stepped forward, their arms motioning this. This is what choose, this is what I want.

They gripped him then, tightly to themselves. Then they kissed him.

They kissed him with passion, so much passion, that JP forgot about his tears. Forgot about anger.

He melted into them.

And Lola wasn’t angry.

She was jealous.

Because she couldn’t pull that out of them. She couldn’t get that passion.

Not even in the beginning.

She watched their hands, the same hands that roamed her body, traverse his. They knew him. They were well acquainted, well versed on his map of hips, and shoulders. This was not their first voyage.

Lola covered her mouth to trap a gasp that didn’t come. What was the point of feigning surprise?

What was the point when she knew it all along?

She knew it.

She chose not to believe it, but she couldn’t deny it now.

Lola didn’t hurt. Didn’t burst in and tear the place apart, she had manners. She had class. She had seen too many episodes of Real Housewives of wherever to feed into the dramatics.

She headed for the exit, head held high. She returned her pass, and marched out into the evening air.

She was going to her house.

And she was going to get drunk.

And fall asleep on the couch, intentionally.

The tears caught up with her at a red light, newly turned green. A man behind her laid on his horn.

She put her car in park, exited hers, and vociferously tapped on his window. When he rolled it down, she cursed him flat out. She let out profanities she had never even recalled learning.

He sat there, in shock.

She apologized, got back in her car, and drove off.

It wasn’t him who she was yelling at, it was Lafontaine. It was JP.

It was herself.

It was the betrayal on both ends.

 

-

-

-

 

When she awoke the next day, Lafontaine hadn’t been back to the house.

She was alone.

What would Lafontaine’s grand excuse be now?

They worked late? They crashed in the office?

Is this what they did, to keep the whole thing going?

Every time she worked herself up to anger, she couldn’t find it. It was there, the sting of it. She could see herself confronting them when they returned.

Then again, she’d have to do the same to herself.

Run her own arse over the coals, for allowing a stranger to enter her.

She’d broken that vow too.

She’d lied.

It doesn’t matter who did what first, or how long.

She was guilty too.

Lola needed to see if this was worth salvaging. If she was staying out of habit, or out of love.

She needed to see if the passion with Matska was fleeting. She needed to know that whatever was outside her marriage, wasn’t worth it. To see if she could bury the image of Lafontaine and JP, and chuck Matska’s embrace out of her mind forever.

Most of all she needed to think. Before she could do any of that, she’d have to clean, cook, do something. Anything other than living in her head, sowing seeds of doubt, and waiting idly by as they rooted and bore fruit.

She’d had a pot roast thawed in the refrigerator, she put it on, with veggies, to slowly cook away for the day. Tidied the house, her frustrations taken out relentlessly on spots, and grime even a trained eye would miss.

Then she sat, at the edge of her bed, running her fingers along Matska’s business card.

Should she call? Should she let it go? It would eat at her, she knew it would.

She needed to see or, just like JP and her partner in the lab, it’d haunt her forever.

She dialed the number, quickly, before she lost her nerve.

One ring

“You’ve reached the offices of Matska Belmonde, attorney at law, how can I help?” A high pitched tone greeted.

Lola went silent, she tried to find words, searched frantically for them.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Yes?”

“I was given this card by Ms. Belmonde.”

“Do you have a meeting with her?”

“No I-I-I….I just need to speak with her.”

“Hold please.”

Music filled Lola’s ears. Some forgettable jazzy tune that didn’t calm her. If that was their aim, they’d missed. It made her jittery, the wait. The suspense grinding her nerves.

“Matska Belmonde.”

It was her. She sounded irritated. As if someone were interrupting her from something important. As if she had better things to do.

Lola almost hung up.

“Matska Belmonde.” She repeated, annoyance making her tone rise.

“Mattie.”

Lola cringed at her use of such an informal name. As if she knew the woman. She did suppose she had in a way, she’d given her a name and allowed her knuckle deep inside her. If that didn’t warrant a nickname, Lola wasn’t sure what did.

“Who,” A beat, realization in her tone when she spoke again, “Lola?”

Lola could hear the smile in her voice, it made her nervous, but excited all the same. Nervous because she was acting on this impulse and could very well see it through, excited because she remembered her as well.

“Yes.”

“You found your nerve,” Matska’s voice was lower then, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Lola didn’t like that, being teased. “Nothing’s been done yet.”

Matska laughed, it didn’t have the weight that it had in the restaurant, but it still managed to stir something in Lola. “Oh, it’s already been done, darling.”

Silence then, she seemed to be waiting for Lola to speak. When Lola failed to, Matska’s voice filled the void.

“2 o’clock.” Matska said, then the call ended.

Lola stared at the phone for a moment. Had she? Had she already done it? She could back out. She could pretend like none of this ever happened. Wait for Lafontaine. Assuage the lie.

She couldn’t play pretend anymore. And if she did, if she sucked it up and lived this life, she had to know what she felt with Matska was not real. That it was just her being bored, lashing out because she knew all along the things that transpired behind her back.

She went upstairs and picked out an outfit, then several more. She showered, brushed her teeth, mussed her hair, and applied make-up.

Lola was on her way out the door when she got a call from Lafontaine.

She let it roll to voicemail.

 

-

-

-

 

Lola didn’t have to wait outside for long. She entered the glass doors, and eyed the Belmonde & Associates plaque for only a brief moment before she was ushered to large double doors with smooth metal knobs.

The office was stunningly decorated, with darkly stained furniture, a wet bar, and an entire wall dedicated to books.

Lola stood by the doors, her hands hidden behind her, trembling.

Matska sat behind her grand desk, and looked to be wrapping up a phone call. She had glasses on, which Lola thought made her look even prettier.

Matska looked up when she heard the soft click as the doors closed behind Lola. She shot Lola that devastatingly luminous smile, then motioned for her to draw nearer.

Lola approached slowly, then sat rigidly in the chair in front of Matska’s desk. She watched her swivel her chair to the window, her conversation carrying on until she checked the time. Mattie said her goodbyes and ended the call, twisting her chair back around to face Lola.

Matska slipped her glasses from her face then set them on her desk.

That smile was back, this close, it seemed to up its wattage.

The room went silent as she stood, and walked across the room, and to the bar to her right. Lola watched her measure out a gin and tonic, and hold the glass in her direction.

She politely declined.

Lola’s heart started thumping when Matska didn’t return to her chair. Matska, drink in hand, propped herself up directly in front of Lola, her backside using the edge of her desk as her new seat.

Lola’s eyes couldn’t help but dart over toned legs, shapely calves flexing slightly as Matska pointed her Manolo covered feet, her skirt riding up dangerously due to her seating.

Lola wanted to reach out and run her hands along their length. She wanted to run her nails over unblemished, soft flesh from ankle to thigh.

Matska sipped from her drink.

Perry squirmed.

She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to begin, this. So she spat out the first thing that came to mind. “Little early to be drinking?”

Matska snickered, “Says the woman meeting up with the woman she cheated on her wife with.”

The comment made Lola’s jaw drop slightly. She was offended, but had no right to be. She was right after all. She didn’t like her tone when she said it though, didn’t like her mentioning Lafontaine. She felt the urge to defend them. “Partner. They aren’t…”

“Ah, one of those.” Matska gestured and the ice in her glass clipped the side of her cup sharply, “Tell me, how’s the thissus this afternoon?” She smirked after, she found amusement in this.

Lola did not.

“I should go.” Lola stood, and headed for the door.

“Lola.” Matska called after her.

Perry continued on, her hand on the knob. She wanted out of this, out of here. She had no business being here, and this stranger of hers, was a lot more pleasant in fantasy. With the door cracked she prepared to make her exit.

“It eats at me, you…” Matska’s voice had lost its edge then, it was softer, “…you…infiltrate my thoughts.”

Lola closed the door, then turned. Watched her sip from her drink, then place the cup beside her on her desk. The fact that she used a coaster made Lola less tense.

“They are,” Matska started, then folded her hands in her lap, “Fleeting moments. A casual thought here or there, but I am a person of many freedoms to which my mind can wander. And the fact that my mind chooses to wander to you, has aroused my curiosity,” She grinned again, “And other things.”

Lola made her way back over as Matska spoke, sat down again in the chair, her eyes aimed anywhere but at her stranger.

“Their cheating on me.” Lola said softly, her eyes beginning to well with tears. She did her best to bite them back. “With their friend, I saw them I…” She stopped to clear her throat. “I surprised them with a visit at work, and…then I saw them.” Lola shook her head, as if in doing so the thought would follow suit.

Matska cut her off, her drink back in her hand, but only momentarily. “Why are you here, Lola?”

Lola was not keen on the indifference in her voice. “I don’t know I...I just…”

“Do you know what makes me a good lawyer?” Matska asked, never giving Lola any real space to answer. “Do you want to know why my name is plastered on that wall outside, with the rest of these peons I work with mentioned only as a group and not individually?”

Matska uncrossed, then crossed her legs again. Lola lost focus on a flash of black panty between her legs.

“It’s because I save all my best lies for the courtroom. Outside of it, I am brutally honest. I do not dilute myself. When I say something, I mean it. I’m not a divorce attorney, and I’m no shrink.” Matska said flatly. “So let’s not mince words. Is it revenge, is that why you’re here?” She drained her glass. “Or, do you want me to offer kind words in this difficult time?”

Matska chuckled, one hand reaching up to fiddle with her necklace. “I’m no shoulder to cry on either Lola, because I don’t care. I do not care about the meaningless drama you’ve got going on, nor the dull bits of your life in between.”

Matska trained her eyes on Lola’s, her hands gripped the side of her desk as she spoke, her body leaning forward slightly. “I want you. That’s why I gave you the card, that’s why I arranged this little meeting of ours. I liked what we did, and I’d like to do it again. And I don’t give a damn who you feel you belong to, or the repercussions that follow,” She shrugged lightly, “Because they simply do not concern me.”

Matska took in a sharp breath, her hands clasped politician style as she spoke. “Feels good to clear the air. Now, why are you here Lola?”

“I wanted to see if…” Lola swallowed thickly. “…if there was something between us.”

“You’re not being truthful. There is something here, you didn’t really need to come by to figure that out. What it is,” Matska raised a finger in the air, “Now that, I can’t put my finger on.”

“How dare you,” Lola was getting angry now, she didn’t like the sureness in her voice. “You don’t know me Ms. Belmonde. Not well enough to sit there and condescendingly dismiss my words, and certainly not well enough to accuse me of lying.”

Matska inspected her nails as Lola continued.

“You’re the one who seems to know it all, right? You said it yourself, you set up this little meeting? You tell me? Why am I here?”

“Why are you wasting my time?” Matska returned, unimpressed, then passively checked the time on her watch, “I made time for you Lola.” Matska said, as if suddenly realizing her actions. “I don’t make time for anyone.”

“I’ve almost had enough of this!”

“Have you?” Matska lifted herself from her desk, her heels hitting the ostentatious flooring in her office with a soft click. Matska stepped in front of Lola. “You really want me to initiate this whole thing so, what, you can sit here and pretend this is an exploratory mission?”

 “Stop it.” Lola looked away, she couldn’t return eye contact. Not right now. Not when those lips were so close to her, full and dangerous.

“That I, the mysterious stranger, lured you here to ravish you?”

“Stop it.”

“Impulse didn’t bring you there for a little surprise,” Matska said, her voice teetering on joviality, “All of this, is premeditation.”

“No, it isn’t like that. It isn’t like that at all.”

“Please,” Matska scoffed, “Am I to believe this is all some huge coincidence? That the poor innocent Lola stumbled upon her no good partner, and caught them in the act?”

“I do not very much,” Lola replied through gritted teeth, her hands digging into the plushy chair she sat in, “Like what you’re insinuating.”

Matska placed her hands on her hips, paced a moment, and then turned sharply back to Lola. “You weren’t there to surprise them,” Matska laughed as she strung together her final conclusion, “You were investigating. You didn’t want an office quickie, you wanted an excuse. So you wouldn’t feel bad for wanting to see me again. You wanted to rationalize reality, so it would bend to your desires.”

“You’re wrong!”

“Stop feeding me, and yourself, bullshit Lola.”

Lola stood from her seat again, “You will not speak out of turn to me Ms. Belmonde!”

Lola felt her heart making a home in her throat, the rapid pounding causing her chest to heave slightly. “You don’t know a damn thing about me! You don’t get to stand there and draw inferences about my life, like you’re cross examining some patsy on a stand.” Lola roared and it was the first time, outside of the traffic incident, that she had really yelled. Years of frustration came out in her tone. Years of bottled emotions, rage, and anger.

Yet underneath, the sting of truth. She knew. She had always known, but she couldn’t believe it until she saw it. And now that she had, she felt almost vindicated. For the incident. For the longing.

She stepped into Matska’s space, backing her up until she was pinned against her own desk. Lola reached around her and raked items out of the way, then forcefully pushed Matska upwards until she was fully seated on it. Lola shoved Matska’s skirt upwards, until the flash of lace panty she saw before came more prominently into view. Lola spread Matska’s legs, then whipped herself in between them, her hands gripping her backside and drawing her back near the edge so that her mons was flush against her waist.

Matska’s hands found a home around Lola’s nape, as her hips moved in a slow rhythm against her body. Her mouth was inches from Lola’s but their lips did not meet. Matska moved to connect them, but it was Lola who evaded and kissed the flesh of Matska’s neck instead. She lingered there, her nose catching the soft scent of her perfume. She smelled of the lightness of fresh blossoms, implausibly sweet. Lola’s lips dragged slowly across dark skin, her tongue occasionally peeking out to sample soft skin, until she was close enough to nip at Matska’s ear.

Lola tugged gently on her lobe, then whispered, “I can’t explain why I’m here.” She exhaled gently, and Matska moaned. “But I know why I’m staying.” She pressed herself deeply into Matska, then bit her bottom lip. “I’m here because when I touched your body,” Lola’s hand ran from Matska’s ass to her lower back, “When you touched mine.” Her hands gripped Matska’s blouse, and pushed up slightly, until her fingertips found flesh. “You invoked a madness in me.”

Lola pulled back, and looked directly at Matska, her eyes focused on her lips. “And I won’t find sanity again,” Lola moved in closer, her words lost in Matska’s lips, “Unless it’s between your thighs.”

Their lips met fully, their mouths wild and yearning as they pressed further into one another. There were breaths in between, short, sharp gasps of needs. As if, their very embrace, was essential to their survival. As if their lungs would give and their bodies would shut down, should their mouths cease to meet.

Lola was the first to break the kiss, and grinned slightly when Matska’s hands slipped from around her neck and gripped either side of her face to pull her back into her. Lola liked the desperation of it all,  the soft pants from Matska as she teased her, bringing her lips just close enough to Matska’s, then pulling back at the last moment.  Matska gently caught Lola’s bottom lip on the last attempt, then slipped her hands back down to her shoulders to lock her into place.

Lola moved her right hand from Matska’s waist then, after tugging Matska’s skirt higher, she slipped her hands inside of her panties, and moaned when she found wetness there. Their kiss deepened as Lola began to stroke her clit slowly. Matska hummed low and deep, her legs spreading wider to allow Lola’s hand further room to roam.

Lola was soft and gentle, until she wasn’t anymore. She slipped two fingers deeply inside of Matska, filling her so suddenly her breath hitched. Matska gently grabbed the back of Lola’s neck to bring her closer, her mouth moving to her ear.

She whispered for Lola to go faster, and Lola was shocked to find how the entire act made her own arousal grow. She closed her eyes tightly, and pressed her fingers deeper, moving in time with Matska’s bucking hips.

“Don’t stop.” Matska moaned, her words muffled as her mouth buried into the side of Lola’s neck.

Lola added another finger then, and it made Matska curse softly under her breath. She moved her mouth back over Lola’s and they were kissing again, desperately trying to keep up with each other’s lips.

Matska was rocking furiously into Lola now, and when she came, she had to bite down on the fabric of Lola’s sweater to keep from crying out. Their foreheads pressed together, as Matska came down from her blissful high. Lola kept her fingers inside of Matska, barely moving in and out of her, until she finished pulsing around the width of her fingers.

They hesitantly separated from one another, as if they were reluctant to let the moment fade. As if they both knew that reality would come slinking in as soon as the moment ebbed.

They kissed again, softly this time, sweetly. Then Matska slid off the edge of the desk and readjusted her clothing.

Lola moved to check her phone, but Matska plucked it from her hand.

“Eight missed calls,” She laughed, “Now they want to get clingy?”

“What are you doing?” Lola asked, momentarily panicked.

“Relax,” Matska said, a grin still pressed to her face. She tapped at the phone several times, then returned it to Lola. “Saved myself as a contact.”

“Under?”

“Anne Boleyn.” Matska replied wittily.

Lola shouldn’t have found humor in it, but she did. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Stick around, you’ll notice I have a bit of a flair for it.”

Matska was on her again, her hands gripped Lola’s waist, as she kissed her slowly. Lola couldn’t focus when she surrounded her like that, all at once. Lola created a bit of space between them, she had to, before she lost control of herself, as she seemed to do in Matska’s presence.

“I have to…” Lola said, gesturing to her phone.

“I understand.” Matska had moved back towards her bar, and began preparing another drink. “So, when will I see you again?”

Matska’s reply was the sound of her office door shutting.

 

-

-

-

 

On the drive home, Lola went through a range of emotions.

She cried, thick blanketing tears she had to wipe away with gobs of Kleenex from her glovebox. She was sick with grief. Pained over her selfish actions. Ashamed even.

She became angry, angry at herself for being so stupid. For having sex twice, well one and a half times, with another person. For not probing deeper into Lafontaine’s extramarital affairs. For not seeing the signs of her unhappiness.

Then she was excited, her heart pounding in her chest, as she thought of what she did to Matska. How she set her skin on fire. How even now, she wanted to go back to her. How Matska made her feel alive again. How she pissed her off, pushed, and challenged her. How she let Lola have the reigns. How her lips tasted, how her body moved effortlessly with Lola’s. How she could still hear her moans in her ear, feel her lips on her skin. How she came -

Lola accidentally rolled through a stop sign.

By the time she parked in her drive way, she felt stable again. Not completely put together, but she was far from the wreck she was before. She hurried inside, and showered. Twice for good measure. Once she was fully moisturized and had applied fragrance, she checked on her pot roast. Perfectly fork tender.

At least she had gotten one thing right today.

Lafontaine’s key in the door jarred her. When they cut the corner, she smiled, and prayed she didn’t look guilty.

“Smells good. Grub time?”

Lola didn’t know how to respond, so she smiled, and began to set the table. As she moved, Lafontaine tossed their bag into the living room, then stood in the doorway, arms folded, and watched her.

Lola felt perspiration gather on her forehead. They knew. She was stupid. She should come clean, and just be done with it. Out them, tell them what she saw, and see where it all lead. It was over for them, wasn’t it?

“I know why you’re acting weird.”

Lola swallowed thickly, kept bustling about in the kitchen. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Is there something we need to talk about?”

Lola froze, her hand gripping a serving spoon, “I…”

“You didn’t answer my calls,” Lafontaine shifted slightly, “Where were you?”

“I was…”

“I got scared.”

“I should have answered but I was…”

She was fucking another woman.

“I was…”

Breaking the vows of their marriage.

“I had to,” She cleared her throat to buy some time, “I thought I’d go to the thrift shop around the way, I didn’t see anything I liked, and so I headed home.”

Good girl, she could hear Matska whisper, as if she were back in the stall where the incident occurred.

“Are you…pissed at me, about before?” Lafontaine questioned.

Their eyes glistened as if they were about to cry, and it broke Lola’s heart.

“No, no,” She whimpered and dropped the kitchenware in her hand, rushed them, grabbed them to her body, clung to them. “No. I love you.”

She would never see Matska again. After dinner she’d delete the number. Burn that card. Condition herself not to think of her, not to quake when she reminisced about their time together. She’d be a secret, one Lola would be buried with.

“I love you too Perr.” Lafontaine whispered, then returned the embrace.

That’s when Lola smelled it.

Thick and cloying.

His aftershave.

Then she knew where they’d been.

Lola broke the hug, going back to serving dinner. She couldn’t look at them right now. They’d see the anger.

The fury.

The same fury they’d probably seen on JP’s face. She should invite him over. The little twink. Fall all over Lafontaine, just to see that look on his face again.

She could see it now. Him wooing them not to leave, to stay a little longer. Telling them that they loved them too. Fretting because he had to share. Him dolloping on a little extra, just so she could catch a whiff of him. So she would know where he’d been.

She dished out their meals and set the plate in front of Lafontaine, then took her place at the table opposite them.

“So,” Lafontaine asked, around a forkful of pot roast, “How was your day?”

She couldn’t look at them, not now, there’d be daggers in her eyes. She looked down instead, forcefully forking through her meal.

Then she thought of Matska. How they were this evening. How they kissed mindlessly, senselessly. How anyone could have seen them.

Then, how no one did.

She had a secret too.

She could play the game. If that is how they wanted it.

Then the rage in her subdued.

She looked up at Lafontaine, then smiled brightly.

“Oh, you know," Lola waved a hand passively at Lafontaine, "Boring, as usual.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I guess this is a twoshot! 
> 
> Mattie's alive ya'll!!
> 
> Raise those flags high!
> 
> (Forgive me for any editing mistakes, I hurried this along after working overnight ya'll - I'll edit up as needed - plus my grammar is shiite anyway)

**Author's Note:**

> Even if it's a given, is it really?
> 
> Something to ponder while I finish up SNTSG.
> 
> Also, got tipsy and wrote this - will edit up as needed.
> 
> *hoists Permonde flag*
> 
> Yikes! Sobered up and re-edited.


End file.
